


Forget

by Mirabai0821



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Drug Abuse, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Hurt No Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-06
Updated: 2015-04-06
Packaged: 2018-03-21 12:14:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3691881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mirabai0821/pseuds/Mirabai0821
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She is anxious to find something to remember, yet desperate to forget.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forget

The liquor didn't work anymore. It just, didn't, work. He's been gone, given up to the fucking Maker and entombed in frozen dirt for three months now and the liquor no longer worked anymore to keep her numb. They kept her hidden away from prying eyes, locked in her quarters lest she make a fool of herself. Cassandra had the official key, Dorian the unofficial one. Cass made sure the Inquisitor had her three squares, a bath, and a change of clothes. Dorian made sure she had her medicine.

“You're not helping her, kadan.” Iron Bull mumbled as he watched Dorian choose another bottle of wine for the night. Two for her one for him, she drank the stuff like water, well he did too, but she drank it like she was parched.

“It helps her.” He snapped back. “She's not sloppy like the rest seem to think. She still has her mind, her wits. And that's the tragedy of it. She still remembers and she wants to forget. Forgetting helps her. I'm helping her.”

In the quiet hours they laugh, brother and sister, and for those tiniest of times she forgets that he's not alive anymore.

On the rare days she actually feels like a human being, she puts on the Inquisitor's clothes and face and heads out acting as though nothing changed. She converses amicably with a shocked Blackwall and can even keep up with Sera's inanity. Vivienne approves that her hair is still kept and clean and Varric is just happy to see a smile even though he knows its fake.

They have barred his room. And rightly so, the last time she was in there, she tipped over a lamp and tried to set it on fire. Her hands don't tremble when she picks the lock open. They tremble though, when she sees his empty desk. 

She hears him, clear and plain as day, as though it were the very day before he took a sword in the heart for her. He was dead before he hit the dirt, his eyes, honey colored eyes staring lifelessly into the sky. The fucking Maker calling His child home. No one ever wondered now why she didn't believe.

She sits at his desk. It is clean. It is incorrect. She opens the drawers looking for any trace of him. A conflict, she looks for things to remember, yet she desperately wants to forget.

A wooden box with a simple latch.

She flips it up.

A blue glass vial, full and untouched.

She smiled.

This would finally make her forget.

**Author's Note:**

> Grief is my guilty pleasure. When writing it, it puts you in bad places from which you can extract your best work. This is not my best, just the first thing I've finished for this fandom and this pairing that I'm putting out there.


End file.
